Broken hearts and trailing hopes,
Tattered souls and lavish woes,
Deaths embrace and Beauty's grace,
hand in hand, they always seem to go.
Yet even still, I don't have the courage to let you go.
Love is as Beauty does,
Imperfect Inquisition of ones innermost mind.
And as a nose is to the grindstone, a heart is to the levee,
stopping the flow of anything, but Apathy.